


All I Need

by ActualAchievementHunterTrash



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Collars, Consent, Dom/sub, Drinking, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Fake AH Crew, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Masturbation, Mental Breakdown, Multi, Oral Sex, Panic Attacks, Porn, Sad, Threesome - F/F/M, Vomiting, Watersports, dom!Ray - Freeform, sub!Michael, this is my AU ill do what i want
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-05-05 22:52:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5393261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ActualAchievementHunterTrash/pseuds/ActualAchievementHunterTrash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of one-shots I have been writing for a while now. Not sure how many there will be or how long I'll do this for, because I'm the most inconsistent writer ever. Warnings/descriptions are in the chapters, and I'll try to add the tags as I go along!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. On A Rail (Gavin/Geoff)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Re-posting in this new format, because I am planning on making a few more one-shots than I had originally anticipated oops*
> 
> So this is my first RT/AH fic on here, and it's just a cute little one-shot idea I had literally last night. I'm in the process of writing a longer FAHC story, and writing this really helped get the wheels of creativity turning, as I had a touch of writer's block with that story. I'll try to add the specific tags for each story in these notes, too! Comments are much appreciated, and if you had any requests for more one-shots, I would be beyond excited to write them! Love you guys.  
> P.S. Imagine this is in a world where Gavin didn't get actually get the achievement, because it made for a better story whoops
> 
> Tags: None

“Oh, no you don’t you British prick!” Geoff teleported Gavin to him.

The boys were recording next week’s Minecraft Let’s Play. And it just happened to be in the same world as On A Rail. And Gavin had just so happened to be getting into a minecart when the inside of Master Chief’s head filled his screen.

“Geoff, just bloody let me get the achievement! It’s been like, a year!” Gavin protested.

“Fuck no, the day you get that achievement is the day I die!”

A chorus of laughter followed Geoff’s comment. Gavin pouted for a while. It’s just that the achievement was so close.

Gavin was still salty as they wrapped up the Let’s Play and called it a night. It was a Friday, and the lot of them rushed out to get home. Naturally, that left Geoff to take the Brit home, since he couldn’t be bothered to get a license. Geoff shut his station down and turned to where Gavin had been minutes before, but suddenly the man was right in front of him.

“Christ, you scared me,” Geoff grasped his chest in mock terror.

Gavin was looking at him with hooded eyes, a hint of pouting in them still. “What’s it gonna take for you to let me get that achievement?”

Geoff laughed. “Nothing, Gav. I’m not gonna let you get it.” Geoff truthfully just wanted to see how long he could keep the joke going before Gavin lost his mind.

Gavin grasped Geoff’s hip lightly, pulled their bodies together. His head dipped to Geoff’s neck, where he placed one, two, three feather light kisses that made Geoff shiver.

“But Geoff,” and Gavin’s hot breath on his neck did things to him better left unsaid. “That means I’m gonna have to convince you…”

Geoff let out an airy laugh that melted into a sigh as he brought one hand to the Brit’s head to encourage what he was doing. Gavin responded, pressing his lips harder to the older man’s neck. He let his tongue sneak out every so often to lick a strip of Geoff’s heated skin. When his teeth grazed Geoff’s jawline, the man let out a breathy, “Fuck…”

He was putty in Gavin’s hands as the Brit pushed him to sit down in the chair behind him. Gavin pulled away to look Geoff in the eye. They shared a second of silence before Geoff reached up to pull Gavin’s face down to him. Their lips slotted together just as perfectly as they always did, Geoff’s sighs falling away into the empty office.

Gavin slid to his knees in front of Geoff, running his hands down the man’s chest and to the top of his jeans. Gavin’s hands played under the hemline of Geoff’s shirt before running back up his chest, this time beneath the fabric. His hands were cold, and it drew a surprised gasp from Geoff.

Gavin broke the kiss to go back to ravaging Geoff’s neck. The older man tangled one hand in the other’s hair, and with the other he palmed himself through his jeans. Gavin’s hand trailed down to cover his and soon his mouth followed.

Geoff watched as the Brit mouthed at his erection through too many layers of clothing. Gavin couldn’t help the smile that crept onto his face as he heard Geoff unravel underneath his mouth. The sight of Geoff, head thrown back, one hand in the Brit’s hair and the other gripping the arm of the chair, was enough to convince Gavin that he wanted to move this along.

He unzipped Geoff slowly, relishing in the way Geoff groaned when Gavin finally took his semi-erect penis into his hand. He held the flesh lightly, stroking slowly. He reached over with one hand and grabbed the lube he knew Geoff kept in the container under his desk. He squirted a bit on to his hand and stroked Geoff with more vigor.

Geoff groaned and let his head fall back once more. “Fuck, Gav…”

Gavin flicked his wrist, eliciting another long moan from Geoff. “You rethinking that achievement yet, Geoff?” Gavin asked playfully.

Geoff looked back down at the man. “You think just because you, ahh, you give me a handjob that I’m just, fuck, gonna let you get this achievement?” Geoff joked. “You gotta try hard-- fuck!”

Gavin’s hot mouth enveloped his fully erect dick, and Geoff could have come right then and there had he not gotten ahold of himself. Gavin bobbed slowly on the head, his tongue sweeping out to lick the slit every few times.

Each bob of his head brought him further and further down on Geoff until he could feel the man in his throat. He gagged quietly, hoping Geoff hadn’t noticed. The last thing he needed was another thing for Geoff to make fun of him for.

Geoff glanced down at Gavin when the man gagged around him. He considered stopping; he didn’t want the kid to hurt himself. But Gavin continued like nothing had happened, and Geoff was lost to sensation once again. His hips bucked involuntarily, drawing a low sound from Gavin. Geoff moaned aloud at the vibration sent straight to his core.

The younger’s hands came down on Geoff’s hips, holding them down with a grip that Geoff didn’t know the man had in him. They had done this before, the sex thing. But Gavin had taken control once, maybe twice, and Geoff’s brain was short circuiting from the arousal now.

Gavin knew Geoff was big. He had learned his limit quickly and stroked what he couldn’t get in his mouth. Geoff didn’t seem to mind as praise fell from his parted lips, “Gav, fuck, fucking so good…”

Geoff’s dick was hot in his mouth, the taste not bad, but not necessarily good, either. He felt the muscle pulse around his lips. His tongue darted out to lick long lines up the underside, the vein prominent as Geoff became more aroused. He sucked hard on the man, warm precome sliding from the tip and on to his lips when he pulled back.

Geoff felt his peak approaching rapidly. He pulled at Gavin’s hair, gasping out a warning. “Oh fuck, Gavin, I’m gonna come…”

But Gavin only responded by pressing his fingers into Geoff’s hips harder and returning to the task with renewed vigor. Geoff gazed down at the man. His hair was ruffled, his cheeks ruddy, and his lips stretched around Geoff, essentially face-fucking himself on the man. Geoff couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Jesus Christ..” Geoff moaned as he released into Gavin’s mouth. His body shook with the force of the orgasm, the edge of his vision going dark for a millisecond.

Gavin pulled off the man with an obscene wet noise. He took a swig of the nearest beer, and hid his grimace well, the taste anything but pleasant. He looked up at Geoff, who was still breathing heavily, a sheen of sweat covering his neck.

“So, about that achievement…” Gavin smirked at Geoff from between his legs.

Geoff laughed loud, almost a bark. “Come here, asshole.”

Gavin crawled into the man’s lap. Geoff’s hands settled on his hips, and he captured Gavin’s mouth. He tasted like beer with a hint of his jizz, and Geoff didn’t think there was anything else he would rather the man have tasted like.

“If you can get the world to load up before you come, then I’ll let you have it.”

He unbuckled Gavin’s belt as the Brit scrambled for the computer behind Geoff.


	2. Wait In Line (Ryan/Jeremy)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little Ryan/Jeremy thing inspired by the latest Versus. I'm not sorry at all.
> 
> Tags: Light Watersports/Desperation Kink

Trevor turned off the camera, and Jeremy returned the Versus belt to the hot dog trophy. He put his sunglasses atop his head and snuck of the AH office. He had needed to piss before they decided to start Versus, and now he could think of little else as he made his way across the building to the bathroom.

Ryan saw Jeremy slip from the office out of the corner of his eye. He smirked as he followed the man from the room.

When Jeremy reached the bathroom, Ryan was closing the door behind him, having taken a different route to the room. Jeremy groaned.

Ryan chuckled and went into the single stall. “I’ll just be a minute.”

Jeremy stood quietly by the sink, legs crossed.

Ryan stood in the stall, one hand on the wall and the other slowly removing himself from his pants. He didn’t really have to go, but he wanted to make sure Jeremy was positively begging before he allowed him release.

There was a solid thirty seconds of silence before Jeremy groaned again under his breath. “Come on, Ryan…”

The sound of liquid hitting the bowl made Jeremy cringe and squeeze his legs together tighter. It seemed to go on for hours before Ryan was zipping himself back up and flushing the toilet.

Jeremy stood expectantly outside the thin metal door, bouncing one leg. Ryan opened the door slowly and then Jeremy was pushing past him into the stall. The shorter man pulled himself from his jeans with a sigh, but he froze as he felt Ryan’s hands snake around his body and settle on his hips.

“What are you--” Jeremy was interrupted as Ryan’s lips captured the soft skin behind his ear, taking it between his lips and sucking. Jeremy shuddered as the hands on his hips tightened.

“Thought you had to go to the bathroom,” Ryan muttered before bringing his lips back to the side of Jeremy’s neck.

“I, uh, yeah, but it’s k-kinda hard when you’re doing that…” Jeremy bit his lip to stop the moan that threatened to come from deep within his throat. He still really needed to piss, but now his mind was warring with his dick on what they wanted individually.

Ryan’s arm slid up Jeremy’s clothed chest to run soft fingers over his erect nipples. Ryan murmured, “What’s the matter, stagefright?”

If Jeremy wasn’t aroused beyond belief, he might have shoved Ryan for that. But the man’s ministrations on his neck were speeding up, and Jeremy could hardly keep his eyes focused on the bathroom wall ahead of him. A small whimper left his throat.

Suddenly, Ryan’s hands were gone from his body. “I’ll stop if you tell me to,” he whispered in between slightly labored breaths.

Jeremy’s hand moved to Ryan’s bicep behind him. “No!” His face reddened. “I mean, no, I don’t want you to stop.”  Ryan chuckled low in his throat. His hands roamed Jeremy’s body, drawing an almost silent moan from him. “Ry...please…”

“What was that?” Ryan teased, pinching one of the man’s nipples between his fingertips.

“Oh God, Ryan, please, just--fuck, please…” Words fell from Jeremy’s open mouth without his full intention.

“Come on, Jeremy, let it go…” Ryan’s hot breath on his neck was too much, and Jeremy felt any self control he was clinging to crumble. He groaned aloud as relief flooded his body, the hollow sound of liquid hitting the water resounding off the walls of the small room. A few drops of the hot liquid ricocheted off the seat and dampened the leg of Jeremy’s pants, but he could hardly be bothered as the tension drained from his body.

Ryan’s mouth on his neck never stopped, even as the last few drops fell from Jeremy’s deflated member. Jeremy was breathing heavily as he felt Ryan’s hands return to his hips. Suddenly he was being spun around, and Ryan was inches from his face.

They stared at each other through hooded eyes before Jeremy moved to capture the older man’s mouth. Ryan responded immediately, body grinding against the man beneath him. Jeremy returned the gesture with vigor, one hand coming up to tangle in Ryan’s hair.

Jeremy’s other hand found it’s way down to the tent in Ryan’s jeans and the man let out a low moan as Jeremy ghosted his fingers over the zipper of his jeans. Ryan held back a whine as Jeremy teased him slowly.

“You talk a big game, Haywood, but you’re just as horny as the next guy…” Jeremy muttered jokingly through the breathy sounds Ryan was drawing from him.

“Hey,” Ryan spoke against Jeremy’s jaw. “What can I--” Ryan’s voice caught in his throat as Jeremy pulled him from his jeans.

He was already half-hard, and all it took was a few slickened tugs to get him to full hardness. Ryan’s hand found Jeremy’s dick, still loose from his jeans and stroked him in time with the other man’s pace. They were breathing heavily now, both men on edge.

Jeremy’s teeth played at Ryan’s exposed neck, eliciting low sounds from the man. Ryan’s strokes became erratic as he felt the impending orgasm in his gut. “Oh..shit, Jeremy fuck…”

Jeremy’s labored breathing was all he could hear as white sparks invaded his vision. He groaned, a loud guttural sound in the quiet bathroom. Jeremy followed the man over the edge, biting particularly hard on Ryan’s neck as he rode out the mind blowing orgasm.

Semen coated their hands, some stuck to their shirts and dripping on to the floor. Ryan put his clean hand to the wall behind Jeremy’s head, steadying himself as he tried to regain control of his thoughts.

They stayed like that for a while, the rise and fall of their chests the only movement. Finally Jeremy looked up at Ryan, whose lips were still parted from exertion. Ryan felt the younger man’s eyes on him, and he smiled faintly. Then Jeremy’s lips were on his, softer than before. It was the feather light touch that caught Ryan’s attention; there one second and gone the next. He opened his eyes to see Jeremy looking at him, bottom lip caught between his teeth worriedly.

He tucked himself away gently, and reached around Jeremy to grab some toilet paper. It wasn’t the most effective method, but neither could be bothered as they wiped themselves down.

Ryan brought his clean hand to Jeremy’s cheek once again. “So what were your plans for dinner tonight?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are totally unbeta-ed so if you guys find any glaring errors, don't be afraid to tell me! I appreciate everyone who has left kudos and comments. You fuel me to keep writing.


	3. Touch (Michael/Ray)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ray and Michael have a little fun and feels are felt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sub!Michael is my favorite Michael.
> 
> Tags: Ray/Michael, Dom/Sub, dom!Ray, sub!Michael, collar, Total Consent!

 

”God, you’re such a  _ slut _ …” Ray’s voice floated to Michael, who was on his knees in the master bedroom. Ray was hilt deep in the Jersey man’s mouth, groans wracking his skinny frame. One hand pulled Michael from his manhood and he heard a whimper escape his swollen lips.

“Yeah, you love sucking my dick, huh? Love it when I fuck your pretty face?” Ray looked down at the man with half lidded eyes.

Michael nodded, knowing he was not supposed to answer. His tongue slipped out to lick his red lips.

Ray growled low in his throat and wrapped two fingers around the D-ring in the collar on Michael’s neck. It was simple, dark red, leather. Michael went slack immediately, and Ray pulled him to a standing position and pushed him toward the bed.

“On your back, naked.”

Michael responded with fervor, scrambling to pull his boxers and t-shirt off. He practically jumped onto the bed, head cushioned by the many pillows. Ray followed, pulling his shirt and shorts off slowly.

Michael was already hard, and he groaned quietly in protest of not being touched.

“What is it?” Ray feigned concern. “Do you want me to touch you? Want me to make you come?”

Michael whined louder this time, but still he was not touched. Michael felt Ray’s body on top of his and opened his eyes to see the other man with his arms braced on either side of Michael’s head. He seemed to be waiting for something, an expectant look in his eyes as he looked past Michael to the wall.

Michael arched his neck to the other man’s and planted a soft kiss beneath his ear. Ray leaned into the gentle touch subtly, not enough to give anything away, but enough that Michael could tell. He continued on like that, soft kisses turning to open mouthing and then harsher bites.

Ray pulled away after a particularly hard bite, and Michael’s expression instantly turned to one of worry. But Ray moved, still not touching him, ghosting his body over the toned body.

Then Ray took him in his hand all at once, and Michael arched his back as a moan ripped from his chest without his consent. Ray chuckled darkly from his spot leaning beside Michael’s hips.

“You like that?” Ray whispered with a smirk. The smirk fell from his face when Michael’s only response was to buck his hips into Ray’s still hand. “Answer me.”

Affirmatives fell from Michael’s lips, voice cracking at first from lack of use, “Yes, god yes, fuck, please, god fu--”

Ray’s voice cut through his flood of words. “That’s enough. A simple yes would have sufficed.” He let Michael’s dick go.

Michael moaned in protest, tears threatening to spill over his eyes. He went limp, whimpering softly as Ray readjusted himself on top of him.

“You’ve been  _ really _ good today, I’d hate for one little mishap to mess that up. If I want to suck your dick now, are you gonna be a good boy and not come?” Ray paused for an answer.

Michael had learned his lesson quickly. “Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir.” Michael’s voice was thick.

“There’s my good boy,” Ray sounded positively delighted as he wrapped a hand around Michael once again. A moan fell from the man’s lips again, deeper than before. Ray pumped once, twice, three times before he ducked his head into the man’s lap. His tongue flicked out to play with the head, precome beading there.

Michael could hardly contain himself now, and it took all of his conscious effort to not buck into Ray’s hand. He could feel tears welling in his eyes, but he refused to let them go.

Ray’s hot mouth enveloping him was far better than ever before. Michael’s hands twisted in the sheets from the effort of not grabbing Ray’s hair, his hand, anything he could get a grasp on. Ray’s skilled tongue drew sounds from Michael that he wasn’t sure he had previously known he could make. Michael whined helplessly as he was at the mercy of Ray, stuck between the pain of holding back his orgasm and the hot, wet heat of Ray’s mouth.

Ray pulled off suddenly. Michael’s whimper was loud in the quiet bedroom. Ray looked up at him through dark lashes, head a few inches from Michael’s dick. “Color?”

Michael threw his head back. “Green, green, I swear, Ray just please--”

“What did I just say about your answers?” Ray’s demeanor was back in an instant, now that he knew Michael was still alright. Michael’s mouth closed with an audible snap.

Ray grabbed the lube from their nightstand and spread some on his fingers, giving his dick a few strokes for good measure, and unceremoniously stuck a finger into Michael’s tight hole. The moan that ripped from his throat was positively pornographic, and Ray relished every second of it. He thrusted his finger slowly, working up to a quick pace. He added another, when Michael’s hips began to push back on his, and a third when Michael’s knuckles went white against the blue sheets.

Ray pulled out, only leaving Michael empty for a few seconds before he pushed into the man. He felt amazing, always so  _ tight _ and hot and perfect. Ray kept a level head as he buried himself to the hilt and pulled out slightly, before thrusting back in and setting a slow pace.

Michael, on the other hand, was completely lost to sensation. Ray’s hands on his hips, the sweat beading on his forehead, the insistent pulsation of his hard cock. He wanted to touch himself, to bring himself to completion before Ray could, but he knew he would never get off fast enough. And then Ray would leave him, horny and alone, handcuffed to the bed for god knows how long. It wouldn’t be the first time.

Ray sped up when Michael’s moans took a louder turn, and soon he was slamming into the Jersey man with enough force to shake the bed. Ray had abandoned the dirty talk at this point; he didn’t think he’d be able to form a coherent sentence in this state anyway. His prostate was found easily, and Ray readjusted to hit the spot on every thrust. Michael’s voice was hoarse now, yells still falling from his lips like they didn’t have neighbors on three sides of the apartment. 

Ray could feel himself reaching his orgasm quickly, and he wanted to get Michael off first. He reached down and took the man into his hand one more time.

It only took a few strokes, and Michael’s body was on fire, white heat overtaking him. He came in long white streaks over his stomach. The man croaked out a broken yell, and the tears swelled and spilled down his cheeks.

The heat tightened around Ray, and he came with a sigh of “Michael,” on his lips. He let Michael go and pulled out, sitting back on his heels. He looked down at the man, streaked with come and sweat, tears leaving light tracks down his cheeks. Ray chuckled and smiled wholeheartedly.

“That good, huh?” he teased.

Michael, knowing that the act was done, laughed, wiping at his eyes. “Shut the fuck up.”

Ray moved to get up and wash off when he felt Michael’s hand on his thigh. “Stay.”

Ray looked down at the man whose eyes and cheeks were still red from exertion. “We’re all gross though.”

“Yeah, but you’re always cuddly after stuff like this, and I like cuddly Ray…” Michael said, lip jutting out in an unfairly cute expression.

Ray sighed; he knew the fight was lost. “Fine. But can I at least get something to clean us up?”

Michael smiled at his success. “If you must.” He sighed dramatically as he let Ray climb off the bed and into the master bathroom. Ray came back a minute later with a warm washcloth, which he used to wipe both their dicks and Michael’s torso. He took the collar in his hands lightly and unclasped it, setting it on the dresser gracefully He threw the washcloth to the laundry before turning back to Michael.

A smile was on his lips as Ray said, “Well, move over, asshole.”


	4. Have a Little Faith in Me (Ryan/Ray)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A super short Raywood fluff.
> 
> Not explicit, basically G rated except for a few cuss words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this literally an hour ago because I was watching Benny and Joon (phenomenal movie) and "Have a little faith in Me" was playing in the background of my favorite scene, and I had inspiration. John Hiatt is a saint.

Ray paced the floor of the one bedroom apartment. Ryan was supposed to be home hours ago; he wasn’t answering his cell and there was nothing on the news. It was supposed to be an easy heist, something they’d done a thousand times. But then Ryan’s mic cut out and there was an explosion and Ray had to run and now…

Ray tried the phone again, only for it to go straight to voicemail.  _ He could have lost it, _ Ray reasoned.  _ Or maybe it was dead.  _ The asshole was always forgetting to charge the thing.

He should go out looking. He could drive well enough to not draw attention. He’d just park a few blocks from the scene and scope out the area. And then he could determine that Ryan wasn’t there, and he would continue to blow up his phone and absolutely fucking murder him when he did come home.

And if he didn’t come home…

Ray threw his phone in frustration as the call went to voicemail again.  _ Fuck. _

Ray grabbed his coat and the keys to Ryan’s bike. He was halfway to the door when it opened.

He was in the man’s arms before his coat hit the ground. His arms wrapped around Ryan’s neck, his head burrowing into the spot beneath his chin. Ryan grunted in pain but took the smaller man into his embrace easily, big hands clasping him around the sides.

“Fucking asshole.” Ray’s voice was quiet and shaky.

Ryan laughed, a breathy sound that ended in another of pain. He should probably change his clothes, shower, maybe address his wounds. But any of that would require letting Ray go, and that wasn’t something Ryan was willing to do right now.

Ray pulled back finally, just a few inches. His face was streaked with the blood leaking from Ryan’s wounds. He brought their lips together crushingly, and Ryan could taste the sweet salt of blood and tears on the other’s lips. He kissed back just as hard, his chest tightening as the realization of how scared Ray really was dawned on him.

He dropped the bag he was holding, and his hand trailed up Ray’s back and into his hair. His other hand grabbed the man around the left leg and hoisted him onto his own hips. Ray let out a sound of surprise but the kiss never faltered.

Ignoring the pain of a possible bullet wound in his side, Ryan carried Ray to the bedroom and laid him on the bed softly. He detached momentarily to try to pull the covers up before laying back down, but Ray refused to let go. He made a sound low in his throat, a mix between a growl and a whine.

“I gotta-- the sheets are gonna get dirty...” Ryan murmured into between kisses.

“I don’t care,” Ray growled. “We can buy a whole new fucking bed after this if we want.”

Ryan chuckled again as Ray coaxed him under the sheets. He was bloody and battered and somewhere in his mind, he probably should have been concerned about resetting his popped elbow before it got stuck like that. But as he watched Ray beside him, body not two inches from his own, he thought that would have to be put on hold.

It was slow and sweet and when it was over, when they laid panting and flushed with a sheen of sweat on their bodies, Ryan didn’t think there was anything more perfect than his life at that very moment.

They laid in content silence for a long time; long enough that Ray’s voice startled Ryan when he finally did speak.

“I thought you were dead.” Somehow saying it out loud hurt worse than thinking it, and Ray couldn’t help the sob that followed the words. Ryan pulled Ray to his chest tightly, and they stayed like that until Ray was silent once again and the tears on Ryan’s own cheeks were drying.

“Hey,” Ryan pulled back and put two fingers under Ray’s chin. He met the younger’s eyes and said with a quiet smile, “Have a little faith in me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you so much for your kind words and kudos, and if there are any glaring grammatical errors or the like, please don't hesitate to tell me. Love you guys.


	5. Curiousity (Jeremy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy discovers the wonders of gay porn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you tell I like Jeremy a little too much yet?

Jeremy was absolutely  _ not  _ a bad person. So what, he was on a porn site? Everybody did it. And surely, a lot of straight guys experimented with their...  _ reaction _ to gay porn at some point, right?

So. Jeremy was  _ not _ a bad person for this. He repeated the mantra in his head as he clicked on the website and browsed the ‘Recently Added’ videos. The titles were basically the same as straight porn, but substituted with words like ‘twink’ and ‘breeding.’ He quickly clicked away from a video titled, “Black Muscle Bear anally destroys White Twink.” Maybe this wasn’t the best idea.

He chose a few of the categories, becoming more and more comfortable as he clicked through the videos, trying to find a good, vanilla gay porno, was that so hard? Finally, he settled on one titled “Redhead’s Big Cock Fucks Willing Twink.” The thumbnail showed a POV of a young guy giving a blowjob.

The video opened on a blonde dude, probably Jeremy’s age, nose deep in a man’s crotch. A hand pulled the guy’s hair, and he removed himself from the dick, breathing out deeply. He was pushed back on to the cock quickly, hardly given enough time to take another breath. He let out a low moan, which drew a similar reaction from the man attached to the dick.

Jeremy could feel himself grow hard in his underwear. He was no stranger to jerking off, but the fact that this was turning him on was weird, to say the least. He shouldn’t have been surprised, I mean, what did he expect when he started this strange journey? He brought a hand to his crotch and palmed himself as the man was once again pushed to deepthroat the cock on screen. When he pulled back, there was a line of spit from the man’s mouth to the dick, and he brought his hand up to stroke the pornstar with a light grip.

Jeremy watched with rapt attention, bringing his own hand down to undo his pants and pull himself from his sweats. He slicked his hand and stroked himself slowly, sliding down in his chair as he became more enraptured with the video. On screen, the the man had begun fondling the top’s balls, and another approving groan fell from the man. The blonde man smirked up at the camera, and Jeremy groaned quietly then snapped his mouth shut in embarrassment, despite being the only one in his apartment.

Then the screen changed, and it was a view of the blonde man on his back on what looked to be an ottoman. It was plush, and for the first time, Jeremy looked around at the room they were in. It was huge, brown and white furniture spanning the vast living room, much like a few of the houses in Vinewood. The lighting was perfect and it didn’t look like the man had a hair out of place, despite the way he was basically just face-fucked by a guy with an impressive dick. Jeremy’s eyes were brought to the center of the screen where the man now had a finger, second knuckle deep inside of him.

Now, Jeremy had never been an ass man, if he was being honest. But he’d be lying if he said the sound that the video drew from him wasn’t positively filthy. His eyes were trained on the man as the finger pumped in and out of him, drawing a high-pitched groan from him every time it was shoved into the hilt. He pumped himself slower then, finding himself reaching his end much faster than he had anticipated.

Another finger was added, and then another, and Jeremy had completely lost himself in the video. All apprehension was thrown out the window as Jeremy pumped himself faster, deciding the rest of the video would just have to wait. The thought of someone doing that to him, unraveling him with their fingers… 

The camera panned right then, and Jeremy was on the edge. He watched the bottom pant as the other man pounded him with his fingers. He was so close.

Jeremy froze as he caught sight of a tattoo on the man’s arm. The camera continued to pan right, and Jeremy saw a foot on the tattoo, then a leg, and finally a full bodied suit of armor on freckled skin. The camera moved to the man’s body, a chiseled torso with strong pecs and admirable muscles. Jeremy held his breath as the camera showed the man’s face: a strong jaw, not a hint of stubble, full lips--the bottom one caught between his teeth in concentration, and finally deep brown eyes that held a hint of a laugh and a lot of lust.

Jeremy’s hand left his dick like it a hot iron, and with the other he paused the video. He stared at the man on screen, the man who he’d spent countless days and nights with, going over heists plans and practicing sniping, playing video games and eating insane amounts of food when no one else would.

On screen, was Michael  _ fucking _ Jones.

First off, Jeremy was baffled that the man was in a porno at all--when the  _ fuck _ had that happened? Not to mention, the fact that Jeremy had been vigorously rubbing one out to his fingers pounding another guy. And the thought that he could see someone doing that to him. Jeremy moved the cursor to exit the window, but stopped himself.

He absolutely  _ should _ have closed the window. There was no logical explanation as to why he would keep the window open, let alone move the cursor back over the video and press play again. The camera stayed on Michael’s face for a few more seconds before once again switching scenes. Now Michael was fully pictured, leaning over the other man, mouths slotted against one another’s in a passionate and rough kiss.

Jeremy heard a whimper leave his throat as he watched Michael make out with the man, the way his mouth moved from lips to jaw to neck. The way the man’s eyes squeezed shut when Michael gave the man’s dick a few tugs. Then the camera panned down, over their chests, Michael’s perfect chest.

Jeremy’s hand found it’s way back to his own dick as he watched Michael push himself into the man. A loud moan drew from the man’s throat as Michael’s thick cock slipped in. Jeremy’s dick dripped with precome, and he pumped himself faster. Michael set a steady pace from the start, leaning down to capture the man’s lips in his own as he built up the speed of his thrusts into the man. Jeremy watched with rapt attention the way Michael’s dick slid in and out of the man, the tight hole squeezing the appendage on every thrust. He imagined what it would be like if he was the one under Michael, the one moaning as Michael’s dick filled him to the brim, Michael’s body leaning over his, eyes locked as Michael pulled out and pushed back in, showing little mercy as he fucked him hard and deep...

The sound of Michael’s moan floated to Jeremy’s lustful ears, and Jeremy could have come right then and there had he not gotten ahold of himself. He was invested now; he wanted--needed--to see this through to the end. Jeremy slowed his hand down.

The bottom was moaning loudly now, Michael having switched positions. It was clear he was hitting his prostate, every thrust causing a jolt through the man. Jeremy knew where the prostate was, but had never had a particular interest in his own, being the straight (?) man that he was. But as he watched the blonde man moan in pleasure, tears welling in his eyes as Michael absolutely pounded his hole, Jeremy let his one hand wander down his stomach and over his dick to his balls.

He fondled them softly for a moment before slipping his hand further, playing lightly at his hole. It felt weird, never having done this before. Jeremy gasped aloud when he let his finger trail around the hole, and a spike of arousal shot through his dick. He groaned again as he continued to pump his cock, slower now. Before going any further, he paused the video and grabbed the bottle of lube from his side table. He shucked his pants off on his way back to his chair.

He unpaused the video again and poured some lube on to his fingers. He stroked his dick a few more times, while on screen Michael was now drilling the man from behind, nails leaving crescent marks in the man’s hips. Jeremy groaned again and let his hand slip back down to his hole. It felt even better than before, the slick lube leaving a warm, wet trail. He couldn’t help the whimpers that were coming from his throat as he circled his hole again and again, dick rock hard.

Jeremy kept his eyes on the video as he began to stick one finger into himself. The tip of his finger felt so, thick. He held his breath as he tried to push in further, but the pain was too much. He slowed down, brought his finger almost completely out of himself. He took a deep breath, and as if by some divine turn of events, he heard Michael’s voice, low and sultry, speaking to the man in the video. “Yeah, that’s it… relax. Fuck, you feel so good…”

Jeremy relaxed his body then, felt himself melt down into the chair. He slicked his finger with lube again and brought it back to his hole. This time, his finger met resistance, but Jeremy’s relaxed body let it pass much easier. He reached the second knuckle before he let out another moan and felt himself clench around his middle finger. He tensed for the shortest of seconds, but relaxed again in the same breath. He slid his finger out and back in again and then again, and Jeremy threw his head back in ecstasy. He struggled to keep his eyes open as he pleasured himself.

He warred with his body, overtaken by stimulation but wanting to watch Michael on screen. He brought his head back up in time to see the other man coming over his own chest, moans falling from his lips in quick succession as Michael continued to pound his asshole. Jeremy felt his impending orgasm and momentarily neglected the finger inside of himself to pump his dick in time with Michael’s thrusts. He started the movement of his hand again as Michael groaned and began to mutter, “Fuck fuck, fuck…”

Michael came with one final thrust inside the man, and the pressure inside of Jeremy was let out in the most mind-blowing orgasm of his adult life. “Oh, fuck, Michael…”

He threw his head back and his eyes screwed shut as he felt his hand and his chest become covered in hot, sticky liquid. He pumped his finger in and out of himself in time with the pulsation of his orgasm, and if Jeremy hadn’t been currently coming, he could have come again from sensation alone. He let go of his dick and slid his finger out of himself with a slight wince, breathing heavily, his vision coming back from the white sheet it had been. 

On screen, Michael was licking at the cum on the man’s chest. Jeremy felt his dick twitch again in spite of himself. The video closed on a wide shot of Michael and the man locked in a heated kiss.

Jeremy looked down at himself, lube and cum on his hands and chest. How the  _ hell  _ was he going to face Michael tomorrow?


	6. Feeling Left Out (But Not For Long) (Geoff/Meg/Lindsay)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meg and Lindsay knew about the agreement that Geoff and the boys had. But lately, they had been feeling left out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am absolute Geoff/Meg/Lindsay trash. Okay maybe just anything-with-Geoff-and-attractive-women trash. Don't look at me.  
> Also I was listening to My Heart by Different Heaven and Eh De on repeat while writing this.

Meg and Lindsay knew about the agreement that Geoff and the boys had. It was casual, no strings attached. Every so often, after a heist or hanging out at someone’s house, they would see one of the lads pull Geoff into the bathroom or a bedroom. Other times Gavin or Michael would come back to the apartment shared by the four of them looking disheveled to say the least. Absolutely wrecked, to say the worst. The Fake AH Crew got around, mainly with each other; it was just a given.

The girls were fine with it; they could do with the break from their boyfriends every so often. But lately they had been feeling left out. They got plenty of love from their significant others--and each other--but they began to eye Geoff with a certain appeal.

He was attractive, there was no denying that. The beard, the tattoos, the way he could be their friend, but still their boss when it came time to get down to business. Everything about him exhumed an easy confidence, and the girls were mesmerized.

It was late, a night of bevs leaving the main crew and a few others sprawled about the living room of Geoff’s penthouse. Gavin and Michael had long since gone to a spare room-- “Sleeping,” they said. Meg had just scoffed and leaned into Lindsay’s arm around her shoulder.

Geoff stumbled into the room, graceful despite his obvious lack of most motor control. He sat on the arm of the couch, hand falling lightly on Meg’s head. She laughed, and their eyes met in a gaze that was just a second too long to be merely friendly. The man proceeded to slide down the front of the couch, effectively trapping both of the girls with his dead weight.

They struggled jokingly now, Lindsay using both hands to lift Geoff by the back of his shirt--she was laughing too hard to really do any damage. Meg pushed halfheartedly at the man atop her lap. Geoff grabbed at them as well, fighting to stay on their lap in his inebriated state.

“God damn it, I will not go quietly into the night!” Geoff proclaimed. “ I will not--fuck!”

Meg laughed aloud. “You won’t fuck, Geoff?”

“Never thought I’d see the day!” Lindsay teased, still working to keep Geoff’s hand from finding purchase on the leather of the couch beside her.

Geoff’s hand slipped from Meg’s arm and shot between them with the force of Geoff’s playful struggle. He found his hand around the girl’s bare waistline, warm skin barely warmer than his own hands.

Geoff and Meg locked eyes at the skin on skin contact. They were both flushed from the playing, and they breathed heavily. Meg’s eyes raked Geoff’s face hungrily, never having been this close to the man before. She hoped she wasn’t being obvious as she leaned into the man’s touch on her torso. Geoff’s eyes slid half-closed, and he smirked.

Lindsay laughed maniacally from beside them, unaware of the way Geoff had stopped fighting Turney, and the way Meg had, in return, melted into Geoff’s subtle touch. They suddenly became aware of how quiet the room had grown, and Lindsay looked around to see her friends in various states of consciousness. She turned to Meg and felt Geoff shift on top of the them.

His breath was hot as he leaned down to Meg’s ear, “I know what you want.” Even whispering, Geoff was unbelievably confident. “And you can have it...if you want.”

He squeezed for a millisecond before letting go and detaching himself from the pile of legs. Lindsay, still mostly unaware of the situation, protested before saying a comment about the dubious state of Geoff’s manhood. The man just smirked down at her and raised his eyebrows in Meg’s direction.

“You know where to find me.” He took another pull from the bottle of Jack in his hand and sauntered down the hall.

Lindsay eyed Meg with a bemused expression. The girl was still flushed, though whether it was from the activity or the contact, Meg was still deciding.

“What was that about?” Lindsay asked, laughing.

Meg lowered her voice to a whisper, though everyone in the room was either asleep or zoned into the cartoon on TV. “I think Geoff just invited us to sleep with him…”

Lindsay balked at that. She pulled the other girl from the couch and down the hall, to the big bathroom. “Geoff what?” She said in a normal volume.

Meg leaned against the counter. “I don’t know, he said, ‘I know what you want,’ and that we could have it if we wanted it.” Meg was smiling now.

Lindsay came to her decision much faster than Meg. “I mean, we do want that right? What we’ve been thinking about for months now? Finally getting Geoff to ourselves?”

Meg nodded, gaining confidence, “Yeah. Hell yeah.  _ Fuck yeah. _ ” Meg grabbed Lindsay by the back of the head and brought their lips together, harder than expected. She plastered her body to the other’s as Lindsay fumbled with the door handle by Meg’s left hip. Finally the door was opened and they were in the hall, still locked in the heated kiss. Meg backed Lindsay up to the door at the end of the hall, finding the handle easily and swinging the door open.

“Oh fuck, Gavin! God, fuck me.... don’t stop, fuck fuck oh--” Michael’s voice assaulted their ears upon opening that door. Gavin’s bare body slamming against Michael, who was on all fours on the plush bed, was all they needed to see before realizing they had clearly walked in on something that they had not currently meant to be a part of.

They parted momentarily to appreciate the way Gavin’s nails were leaving crescent shapes in Michael’s hips and the way Michael’s blush spread from his cheeks to his chest. His eyes were closed, but Gavin’s were wide open, and he didn’t miss a beat as the girls collected themselves in the doorway. He winked at them before slamming back into Michael, drawing a pornographic moan from the man.

They shut the door behind them, finding a sock in the cluttered hallway to throw over the door handle with a laugh.

They adjusted themselves before they walked--okay, maybe they power-walked--to Geoff’s door. They stood, neither quite sure how to go about this.

“Do we, like, knock?” Meg whispered.

“Oh, yeah, sure. Knock, knock, wanna fuck?” Lindsay quipped playfully.

The door opened before Meg could reply. Geoff stood in the doorway, backlit by the subtle light of...candles? And was there incense burning? He was still in his sweats and t-shirt from earlier, but he seemed different somehow.

He grabbed each of their hands and led them into the big room. There was a dresser, a desk, a closet, and one of the biggest beds Lindsay had ever seen. Geoff looked almost sheepish, the easy confidence from earlier washed away, as he turned around and held his arms out in a ‘ta-da’ way.

Lindsay was the first to speak. “Man, Geoff, if I knew you did all this for a couple of girls, I would have started flirting with you a long time ago.”

Geoff laughed, the tension drained from him. He grabbed Lindsay around the waist suddenly. “You two,” Geoff whispered, eyes falling to Lindsay’s lips, “are far more than ‘a couple of girls.’” Geoff captured Lindsay’s mouth with his own, steady hands digging into the back of her hoodie.

She leaned into the man, one arm winding around his neck and the other grasping lightly at the front of his shirt. Geoff was burning up, heat radiating off his body, his face, his lips. She felt the man shiver as Lindsay’s cool hand met the back of his neck.

Meg watched from inches away with a mix of lust and awkwardness. On one hand, she would have loved to watch the way Geoff’s mouth slotted perfectly into Lindsay’s for hours; on the other, she was immensely uncomfortable as they shared the heated kiss. Geoff’s hand unwound from Lindsay’s back to grab Meg and pull her to him.

And then they were kissing, and it was a thousand times better than she could have imagined. His lips were warm and wet, and when her tongue flicked out to run along his bottom lip, Meg heard the almost inaudible groan from within the man’s throat. Their tongues collided in a slightly desperate display. But neither could be bothered, especially when Lindsay’s lips found Meg’s neck, and her body was flush behind the other girl.

Geoff’s hand tangled in Meg’s hair, and his lips travelled from her lips to her collarbone and back again. He stopped momentarily to capture Lindsay’s mouth over Meg’s left shoulder, and Lindsay couldn’t help the sigh that escaped her quietly. She brought her mouth back to Meg’s neck, leaving light open-mouthed kisses on the soft skin behind her ear. Meg responded by pushing her body into Geoff.

The man moved backwards until his legs hit the bed. He pulled away from Meg’s lips with some reluctance. He watched as she moved seamlessly from kissing him to kissing Lindsay, the way their tongues danced in an erotic ballet of movement.

With some prompting from Geoff, Meg pulled her shirt off, black bra cupping her breasts perfectly. She moaned quietly when Lindsay’s hand snaked down her shoulder and to the exposed skin of her chest. Lindsay’s mouth followed, other hand finding the clasp of her bra and undoing it with deft fingers. Meg’s boobs fell from her bra and Geoff thought it was the most graceful thing he had ever seen. He couldn’t help the sigh that fell from his lips when he brought his hands up to play with her round nipples.

Meg responded likewise, breathing out against Lindsay’s lips at the feeling of Geoff’s warm hands. They moved in circles, palming her big breasts. Coupled with the feeling of the bulge in Geoff’s pants against her hip, Meg could feel herself getting wet.

Lindsay opened her eyes to see Geoff’s mouth on Meg’s neck, sucking a dark mark into the spot right under her jaw. She groaned at the feeling of Meg’s hands on her hips and inching closer to her ass with every pass.

Geoff suddenly pulled them on to the bed, landing underneath Meg, tits falling into his face. Lindsay laughed before she felt a hand on her thigh and looked up to see Meg once again kissing her. She brought her hands to Meg’s exposed body and tweaked her nipple gently. Meg moaned into her mouth, and Lindsay did it again, this time taking the bud between her fingers and pulling lightly. Meg’s gasp was louder this time, and she grinded her body down against Geoff, who groaned at the friction.

Lindsay felt a hand crawl up her thigh and broke from her kiss with Meg to watch Geoff’s hand work it’s way closer to the spot between her legs. He was watching her face intently. Meg crawled off of Geoff to kneel beside him and pull his shirt off as Lindsay moved to straddle him. Her hands traced the tattoos that bled from his arm to his shoulder and to his chest.

Geoff looked up at Lindsay with a smirk before flipping them on the bed, his hips held lightly over hers. He ravished her neck, low cut shirt askew. His hands found the hem of the shirt, but before he could pull it over her head, Lindsay’s hands covered his. He looked down at her with a confused look. Lindsay was aware that she wasn’t the skinniest chick in the world, and more importantly in the room, and the worry was evident in her eyes. Geoff leant down and placed a gentle kiss on the woman’s lips, mouth lingering on hers for a few seconds. Softly, he ran his hands over her hips and thighs, her sides and the place where shirt met pants. He locked eyes with her and pulled at the hem of the shirt again, asking the silent question.

Lindsay’s hands melted away this time, bottom lip still worried between her teeth. Meg watched the silent conversation from her spot beside Lindsay, and now she joined Geoff in pulling the shirt off of Lindsay. Her small hands ran up the other woman’s sides and helped her push the shirt up and off her body. She captured Lindsay’s lips once again as Geoff threw the shirt from the bed.

She felt Geoff’s rough, warm hands run up her sides and down the front of her stomach. She couldn’t quiet the internal voice that was telling her to find her shirt and cover herself back up again, even as Geoff’s mouth fell to her bare shoulder. His lips mapped a path from shoulder to shoulder, down her chest and around her belly button. Geoff’s gruff voice floated to her, in the haze of her arousal. “You are so  _ fucking _ beautiful.”

The voice in Lindsay shut up at that, and she smiled into the kiss with Meg. Geoff felt her fully relax against him and took that as a sign that his words had gotten through to her. His hands found the clasp of her bra, and her boobs sprung free, no less perfect that Meg’s own. When his mouth closed around her nipple, Lindsay let out a quiet moan. His teeth grazed the erect bud, and Lindsay’s hand found purchase in Geoff’s hair. He gave the same treatment to the other nipple.

Geoff felt a hand snake down his body and pull at his pants, sweats giving easily to Meg’s hand. He had decided against underwear; it was just one more thing to get in the way. Meg pulled him from his pants and gave him a few good strokes, to which the man groaned appreciatively. He was already pretty hard, the thought of what was about to possibly happen had him practically creaming his pants.

Meg stroked him faster, but the minimal space between Lindsay and him did not provide for much mobility. He laid on his back, Meg kneeling to his right. Lindsay crawled to his left and caught Meg in a searing kiss. Meg’s hand never left Geoff’s dick, and he felt it twitch in her hand as he watched the way the girls moved over him. They bent down in unison, never breaking the kiss. And then their lips were on Geoff’s dick, and he couldn’t help the groan that drew from deep in his throat.

Wet heat enveloped him, and he threw his head back into the pillows. Meg giggled quietly at his reaction and watched Lindsay take the man to the hilt again. Her mouth worked him expertly, and Geoff couldn’t help the moans now falling from his mouth. He was at the mercy of Lindsay in this moment, and he didn’t think there was anywhere else he’d rather be. He whined when she pulled off, but was rewarded when seconds later Meg’s mouth covered his member.

There were so different, but yet so similar. Where Lindsay had been fast, Meg was slow; where she was rough, Meg was soft. Meg was teasing and calculating, and when Geoff caught her eye for a split second, he could have sworn he saw an amused glint in her eyes. But her throat once again covered his dick, and he lost all ability for coherent thoughts.

He clutched Meg’s hair and pulled her off after a few more strokes like that one. “You keep that up, we’re gonna have to skip the really fun part,” Geoff laughed, a little breathless.

“Oh, what, this isn’t the fun part?” Meg laughed too, wiping her mouth.

“Trust me, there’s so much more fun we could have…” Geoff eyed the girls from the corner of his eye.

“Well, let’s get to it then,” Lindsay said, grabbing Meg around the waist and pulling her into a searing kiss. While she was distracted, Geoff reached into the side table and grabbed a condom. Meg’s hand trailed down LIndsay’s body to the warm center between her legs. Both girls still remained in their underwear, and Meg was clearly looking to remedy that quickly. She hooked one finger in the front of Lindsay’s underwear and pulled it down, giving Geoff a quick peek of the smooth skin hidden beneath the undergarments. Then her hand was pushing into her underwear and Lindsay gasped against Meg’s lips.

“Wanna put on a show?” Meg whispered.

Lindsay giggled, and the answer was evident when Lindsay hummed in appreciation of the way Meg’s hand was snaking down her panties.

Meg’s slender fingers played at the outside of Lindsay’s sex before pushing in slowly. Three fingers slid along her wet slit, and the groan that came from Lindsay was positively filthy. Her body thrummed with arousal. Meg’s hand slid up and down, the stimulation so intense that Lindsay was practically begging her, little whimpers fall from her open mouth against Meg’s own. Then the hand was gone, but was almost immediately replaced, this time without the barrier of undergarments. Meg flung Lindsay’s underwear across the room.

Her hand continued to work Lindsay over, and two fingers slid into her. Lindsay sighed at the feeling, then moaned as Meg crooked her fingers and pulled them out again. She pushed back in, harder this time, and Lindsay was left to the mercy of Meg’s hand. She slowly teased her to the edge. Lindsay was fully gasping now, as if her lungs couldn’t get enough air no matter how big a breath she took. Then Meg stopped again. She could have cried out at the sudden stop had she not been so lost in need.

She locked eyes with Meg and saw the mischievous glint she knew so well. “Wouldn’t want to wear you out too much before the main event…”

Lindsay pushed at Meg’s shoulders, causing her to land on the bed with a soft thump.  _ Two can play this game. _ She unceremoniously pulled Meg’s underwear off and pushed her legs up to rest on Lindsay’s shoulders. Lindsay was a no nonsense kind of person; she knew what she wanted and she knew how to get it. She knew what Meg liked, what really got her going. And what better way to exploit that than in a situation like this?

Lindsay’s mouth trailed down Meg’s body, stopping right before her warm core. Meg whined quietly and pushed her hips toward Lindsay. She laid on chaste kiss on the outside of the warmth, the continued on to her inner thighs. There she stayed, biting, licking, kissing until Meg was practically crying, begging Lindsay to touch her.

“Oh, do you want something?” Lindsay asked innocently.

“Please, Linds, fuck… please.” Meg’s hand gripped the sheets, her body pushing toward the woman between her legs.

“Are you sure? I mean, you didn’t seem very willing to help me out…” Lindsay said before she bit particularly hard at the spot where her right thigh met her body.

“Ohh, fuck. Linds, please, God…” Meg writhed beneath her.

Geoff’s groan from beside them brought them back to the present. He was tugging himself leisurely, watching the girls with rapt attention.

Meg caught her breath in the moment since Lindsay had stopped playing with her, and now she giggled. “Are you feeling left out?”

Lindsay let go of her legs, snagging one last love bite before they crawled over to Geoff. The contrast between the Geoff that laid in front of them now and the Geoff that they saw on a daily basis was striking. The confident man, the man who had all the answers and knew every inch of the city was unraveling in front of them. He was allowing himself to be vulnerable, to strip away the confident exterior and live in the moment.

Meg caught his mouth in a kiss suddenly, bringing one hand to his face, the other steadying herself over him. Lindsay plucked the condom from beside the man and pumped him a few times before rolling the rubber on. Meg pulled back from the kiss momentarily to lock eyes with Lindsay. They looked at Geoff then.

“Who do you want first?” Meg asked quietly.

“Fuck, I couldn’t care less, just somebody please, you’re both perfect and beautiful, and I’m about to be the luckiest guy in the world if either of you--” Geoff cut himself off with a groan as Lindsay sunk down on to his cock. They both shuddered at the contact, Lindsay stilling for a few seconds before grinding her hips against Geoff’s own. She quickly set a pace, feeling Geoff fill her deep. He thrusted up into her, meeting her downward thrusts head on. Her wet heat was indescribable. Lindsay cried out suddenly, and her nails dug red lines down his chest. He grabbed her hips and held her there as he drilled into her harder and harder.

Lindsay’s thoughts were an incoherent mess, the only clear words coming from her lips, “Fuck, shit, God, Geoff… please, ohh, fuck me…” Her impending orgasm hung low in her gut and she threw her head back.

“Geoff, oh my God, fuck!” Lindsay screamed as she orgasmed, her cunt clenching around Geoff’s erection inside of her. She rocked her hips against him as she rode out the mindblowing orgasm, until finally she looked down at the people in front of her. They were both staring at her with wide eyes. She was suddenly very self conscious. “What?”

“Fucking hell, Lindsay… That was the hottest thing I’ve ever fucking seen…” Geoff chuckled from his spot beneath her.

She could feel her cheeks reddening. “Well clearly you’ve never seen Meg come…” She laughed and extricated herself from Geoff’s lap.

Through sheer power of will, the man had staved off his own orgasm during that display, and his cock now throbbed with need as Lindsay slid off of him and to his side. Meg, sweet merciful Meg, took Geoff in her hand, and he couldn’t help the needy thrust that his hips made at the contact. And then Meg’s wet heat was around him, and Geoff cried out with a few choice words better not repeated.

He opened his eyes and let out a low moan as he watched the woman on top of him. He reached up to capture her mouth in a kiss, and in an instant he flipped them. Meg let out a surprised gasp that faded to a moan as Geoff hit that sweet spot inside of her.

She clenched her bottom lip between her teeth and whined in lust at the rough thrusts that Geoff was now laying into her. They were past the point of sweet, of slow. They wanted to get off, and they wanted to get off now. Meg could see Geoff’s resolve crumbling, his thrusts becoming erratic. She was close.

Meg could feel the orgasm rising in her and was pushed over the edge when Lindsay’s fingers found themselves at her clit. She arched her back and her hands twisted in the sheets as she came with a gasping moan.

Geoff was lost in euphoria as he felt the tight walls clenched around him, and he was sure his hands would be leaving marks in Meg’s hip with the way he was gripping her. It only took two more thrusts for him to be spilling into the condom, hips flush with Meg. He fell forward, burrowing his head in the space between Meg and Lindsay’s shoulders.

The girls giggled as Geoff caught his breath and pulled out of Meg, a tremor running through the woman. He stood on shaky legs and threw the condom out, turning back to the bed. Lindsay and Meg were curled around one another, hands lazily tracing circles on hip bones and mouths touching in barely-there kisses. As much as Geoff didn’t want them to stop, he was rapidly growing cold, and so he wiggled his way in between the two of them.

Lindsay laughed when Geoff’s two fingers pulled at her chin and locked their lips in a chaste, but long, kiss. He did the same to Meg before flopping down on his back in between them. His arms came up to rest in the space between their shoulder and head, making a rather effective pillow in addition to the ones already on the bed.

It was there that they stayed, sedated by the post-sex atmosphere. Geoff felt Meg drift off to sleep, the arm over his chest going limp. He felt the fingers trailing up and down his hand slow to a stop as Lindsay fell asleep. He closed his eyes then too, fully prepared to sleep until the real world came knocking at his door.


	7. Theater Club (Ryan/Michael)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Star Quarterback Michael gets caught with weed and the principal gives him an ultimatum: Get kicked off the team or join the theater club. High school and fluff ensue.
> 
> Just a cute little high school AU. Basically G rated, except for a few curses.

“Care to explain this, Mr. Jones?” Mr. Burns was sat behind his big wooden desk, a baggie of marijuana swinging between his thumb and forefinger. Michael was across from him, shoulders slumped and eyes averted.

Michael’s only response was an indifferent shrug.

“You know we have a strict drug free policy here, young man. I could suspend you, remove you from the football team.” Mr. Burns kept his sharp gaze on Michael.

Michael’s head jerked to the principal at that. He couldn’t be kicked off the team, he was a sure pick for scouts this season.

“I’m the quarterback! I can’t get kicked off, the team will goddamn fall apart,” Michael protested angrily.

Burns pointed a finger at the boy. “Hey, watch the language. Lucky for you, there’s an alternative that I am offering to you.” Michael’s eyebrows quirked at that, but he did not relax. “Mr. Ramsey needs another lead role in the theater department’s play this semester. You take it, I’ll forgo this little discovery.”

Michael sneered. “No way, I am not gonna dress up and parade around on stage with a bunch of theater nerds for a whole semester.”

Burns shrugged and leaned back in his chair. “Alright, well I guess I’ll be making a call to Coach Pattillo today.”

Michael’s eyes widened, and he backpedaled quickly. “Fuck--I mean, sorry. Fine, I’ll do it.”

Burns clapped his hands together with finality. “Great, I’ll tell Ramsey. You’ll meet with him tomorrow at 2:30.” The principal dropped the baggie of drugs into his trash can, and Michael shut the door a little too hard behind him.

* * *

So here he was, fuming in Ramsey’s cramped office off of the school auditorium. The teacher was unconventionally dressed, jeans and a black printed tee, tattoos visible for all to see. He was leaning on his desk, arms crossed.

“So you must be Michael.” The boy didn’t say anything, just nodded in affirmation. Ramsey continued, “Welcome to the theater! Excited to have you, buddy. More excited to hear that you’ll be vying for a leading role. Most of the play is cast already, but we’ve been waiting on a leader like you to show up.” Michael scoffed and looked bored.

Ramsey pushed off his desk and took a step into the middle of the room. “Hey. Wipe that smug look off your face. You think this is gonna be some easy ‘alternative’ for getting off without a drug report? Well, it’s not. Theater is serious business.”

Michael was still angry, but he willed his features into a more neutral expression. Ramsey flopped a packet against his folded arms.

“The script. Learn it, live it, love it. You’ll be playing Alexander, as the other lead is already taken by one of the senior actors. Practices are Monday, Wednesday, Friday, 3 PM sharp. I’ve already talked to Coach Pattillo, and he’s aware of the arrangements.” Ramsey paused for a second, studying the student. “Alright. You’re free to go. I’ll see you down on the stage tomorrow afternoon.”

Michael turned quickly and wrenched the door open.

“Oh and Michael?” Ramsey called after him. “If you even think about half-assing this, you won’t hear the end of it for a long, long time.”

* * *

Michael flung himself down on to his bed that night with a huff. What a shit day.

He was pissed, for letting himself get caught and all of the repercussions of that shit. It was bullshit, having to be in a play just to avoid being kicked off the football team. But Michael needed the team, needed the scholarships that scouts brought with them. He knew it was one of his only shots to go to college at all.

So he reluctantly pulled the script from his bag and skimmed for his supposed role,  _ Alexander _ . The play didn’t even have a name, or if it did then it wasn’t listed on this copy. It turned out  _ Alexander _ was a bartender, and the genre of the play was “romantic comedy.” That’s as far as Michael got before he threw the script down in annoyance and turned his light off.

How hard could acting be, really?

* * *

Michael walked into the auditorium the next day with something only akin to shyness--something the boy had surely never experienced before.

There were people milling around, on stage and in the first few rows. He slunk into a chair about halfway down the room as Ramsey clapped his hands and directed the attention of the room.

“Alright, guys, listen up! Today’s our first official day, so I’m expecting you to be in your groups--lighting, props, stage management, et cetera--and planning. You’ve all seen the script, and since we’re starting from scratch this year, we’re gonna be working overtime to get this together and presentable before fall break.” Ramsey was in the center of the stage, and now his eyes found Michael in the seats and pointed. “But first, we have one last audition to watch. Well, its hardly an audition, but regardless, Michael, c’mon up here.”

The boy slunk out of his chair with a barely contained groan. He kept his face neutral as he walked down the aisle and onto the stage, script in hand. Ramsey put a hand on his shoulder and gestured to a tall blonde boy to the left of him. “Michael here will be auditioning for Alexander. Ryan, will you come read with him?”

The blonde nodded and Ramsey left them on the stage to take a seat in the first row, clipboard in hand. “Why don’t you read page 25, the first scene in the bar?”

Michael flipped to the page and tried not to let his nervousness show as he glanced from the small crowd back to Ryan. Haywood, was his last name, Michael thought. He’d seen him around the school a few times; he was tall, quiet. There was literally no way their paths would cross in daily life.

Ryan cleared his throat, gave Michael a small smile, and asked, “Ready?”

Michael shrugged. “Sure, whatever.”

They started the scene, and Ryan was in character amazingly fast. Brooding, staring into his imaginary beer. Michael, however, stood exactly the same way he had been before, reading his lines in a monotonous way. He could sense Ryan trying to do his best, reel him into the scene but Michael was having none of it.

Finally Ramsey stopped them. “Michael, a word?” He followed the teacher to the side of the stage. “What did I say about half-assing this?”

Michael groaned. “This is just, dumb. I’m not an actor, I don’t want to be here just as much as you don’t want me here, so can we just forget this and let me get back to football?”

“Yeah, well like it or not you’re stuck here for the semester, so suck it up, kid, and put in some effort. Hell, maybe you’ll even end up liking it.”

Michael laughed at that, a sarcastic sound. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

They headed back into the stage, Ryan giving Michael a wary look. They started the scene again, and Michael did actually try this time, gesturing when he should, inflection where it was needed. If Michael looked the part, then maybe he could get out of this with as little work as possible.

They finished the scene, and there was an awkward pause where the students knew they should probably clap, but weren’t sure if the performance actually warranted any applause. After a few excruciatingly uncomfortable seconds, Ramsey stood up and clapped his hands together once. “Alright, that was, interesting. We can work on it. As for right now, let’s split up into your departments. I’ll be around to see your visions for the semester.”

With that, the students split up into their respective groups, and Ryan started back down the stairs to the auditorium. Michael followed, figuring wherever he was going was where Michael should be, since they were both “actors.” Michael cringed at the word; the obvious connotations that came with it and this play in particular were sure to do wonders to his reputation.

Ryan sat down in a row with a few others, all holding scripts. Michael sat down, leaving a seat between them. A cute blonde girl sat down next to him.

“Hey, I’m Barbara. Michael, right?” 

“Yeah.”

“I’ve seen you around, but I never thought I’d see you here. What brings you to theater club?”

Michael paused. If he told the truth, the word would be out in seconds; their school wasn’t the biggest, and news travelled fast. His aforementioned reputation would already suffer, without the whole school knowing he got caught with weed. So he put on a smile and said, “Just thought I’d try something different. You know, senior year and all.”

Barbara nodded, seeming content with that answer. Ryan, however, eyed Michael questioningly from his spot a few feet away. There was no way star quarterback Michael Jones joined theater club just to “try it out.” But Ryan wasn’t one to pry.

He turned back to the group, and they began talking heatedly, most of the words going in one ear and out the other for Michael. Stage terms, and acting techniques, and Michael had never felt more lost than he did right now. Finally, Ramsey dismissed them, and Michael gathered up his things.

“I can explain it all to you, if you want.” Ryan’s voice startled Michael, despite the auditorium being abuzz with people talking. He must have seen Michael’s bewildered expression.

Michael nodded gratefully, holding onto his pride for a few seconds more before reasoning that if he was going to be stuck here for the rest of the semester, than he ought to learn what the fuck they were talking about.

“How does tonight sound? 7, the Bent Tree Cafe downtown?” Ryan asked.

Michael could see now that Ryan had an aire of confidence about him. Enough to notice, but not enough to make him a cocky prick. And when he smiled down at Michael before departing, Michael found himself smiling back, a strange tugging in the pit of his stomach. He brushed it off and began the trek to his blissfully silent house.

* * *

**6:50: Unknown Number** . Hey it’s Ryan. I got your number from Ramsey. Do you want me to pick you up or do you wanna meet there?

Michael’s phone buzzed as he was walking out the door. He opened the message, surprised at Ryan’s proactivity to get his number.

**6:52: Michael.** Nah, I’ll meet you there.

He didn’t want to tell Ryan that his car had broken down last week, and he didn’t have the money to fix it, probably wouldn’t have the money for at least a month. So walking it was.

Ryan was already at Bent Tree, had snagged a corner table near the back. Michael weaved his way through the other patrons and took a seat across from Ryan.

“Bit of a hipster joint, huh?” Michael joked.

Ryan looked up in surprise, and his copy of  _ War and Peace  _ fell closed.  _ Of course he reads shit like that,  _ Michael thought with a discreet laugh.

Ryan nodded in agreement. “If we’re being honest, we’re basically hipsters anyway, what with the acting and all that. Speaking of which, surprised to see you joining theater club.” Ryan eyed Michael from behind a sip of his coffee.

Michael shrugged, and again Ryan didn’t pry.

They started with techniques and moved on from there. For a solid hour, it was as if Ryan was speaking German, and then it started to make sense. The terms and techniques were coming together, and by 9:45, Michael may have actually started to understand the art of theater.

They looked up to find that they were the last people in the cafe, save for a sleepy employee behind the counter. They decided to call it a night.

“Did you drive?” Ryan asked as they walked out into the cool night.

Michael hesitated. “Uh, no, walked. I don’t live too far from here.”

“Oh, I’ll drive you home.”

“No it’s not too far, really.”

Ryan put a hand on Michael’s arm. “You sure? It’s getting late. And it wouldn’t be any trouble, I promise.”

It was as if Ryan could read his mind, and Michael sighed. “I guess it is getting late.”

Ryan smiled, a bit triumphant. “C’mon, my car’s this way.”

The ride to Michael’s was short, Ryan fiddling with the radio and Michael with his phone. They pulled up to his house easily, and Michael stepped out of the car.

“Let me know if you want to do this again,” Ryan said. “I mean, if you want me to teach you more. Not just the coffee, but I mean, that would be fine too--” Red was rising on Ryan’s cheeks.

Michael laughed, his face heating as well. “Yeah, it was fun. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Ryan nodded a little too hard, cleared his throat, and Michael shut Ryan’s door.

Michael found himself smiling as he stepped through his front door.

* * *

**One Month Later**

It was a Wednesday, and the play was really coming together. Set design was amazing, lighting and sound working seamlessly together. The actors were great, as usual.

Ryan was running through a scene by himself before practice officially started. He had grown to love this play, even more than he had initially, which was a lot. Truthfully, he was hard pressed to find a performance that he  _ didn’t  _ like. He was a theater buff, through and through.

He looked up at the sound of the theater doors and squashed the little voice in him that wished it was Michael. He had really changed in the past month, practically a 180 from his first day. Ryan still wasn’t convinced that he had joined the club out of the goodness of his heart, but he was never one to pry. Even if said person was the object of a substantial crush.

But when Michael did walk through the doors a few minutes later, it was not with a happy expression. He stormed up the stage to where Ryan stood and in a curt voice said, “We need to talk.”

“O...kay?” Ryan answered as Michael all but dragged him around the curtain.

“What is this shit?” Michael had the script out and was pointing to a scene in the bedroom.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about?” Ryan’s puzzled look was all but ignored by Michael.

“We have to kiss. You didn’t think to tell me that, I don’t know, when I joined this fucking club?” Michael huffed. “And not only kiss, but ‘ _ a kiss filled with passion and love. _ ’ What the fuck?”

Ryan laughed, despite Michael’s angry expression. “You didn’t read the script before now?”

Michael looked confused that that was even an option. “No? Because I didn’t think there’d be a fucking makeout scene.”

Ryan couldn’t help how a smirk fell onto his face now. “So what? You don’t want to know how good of a kisser I am or something? Afraid I’ll be  _ too _ good?”

Michael’s face when slack, and he sputtered for a second before scoffing. “No, I’m not--”

Ryan grew serious now. “C’mon Michael. We’ve hung out practically every day since we started this play. If you’re about to say ‘I’m not into dudes,’ that’ll be a boldface lie and you know it and I know it, so get over yourself.”

Ryan was right, and they both knew it. Still, Michael protested. “Fine. Say I am. I don’t need the whole fucking school knowing it and this sure as hell will send that train off.”

Ryan threw his hands up. “And that’s another thing. I am so sick of people like you coming into here and thinking you’re above this and denying shit about yourself because you’re too concerned about your reputation. Newsflash, kissing a guy on stage doesn’t make you gay.”

Michael scowled at Ryan now, but didn’t say anything as he continued. “I mean, honestly, if you’re so worried about your reputation, why did you even bother joining in the first place? Because there’s the door, you can fuck off anytime you like!”

“Because I got caught with fucking pot, all right? Burns was gonna kick me off the team or make me join this goddamn club, and the only way I’m getting into college is with a football scholarship!” The words spilled from Michael. He took a deep breath. “Happy now?”

Michael threw his script at Ryan’s feet and stormed out the back door.

* * *

**10:43: Ryan.** I’m sorry about getting angry at you today.

Michael picked up his phone from where he was laying on the couch playing a match in Halo. He looked at the message for a few solid minutes before replying.

**10:50: Michael.** It’s fine. I’m sorry I blew up at you.

**10:52: Michael.** For the record, I’m not in denial.

**10:56: Ryan.** Okay. I just know coming out was a rough time for me, and I get concerned for my friends.

Something in Michael’s chest fluttered at the admission of Ryan and him being friends, and he quickly brushed it off. He was in touch with his sexuality, obviously, but he did not need a stupid crush to get in the way of everything.

**10:59: Michael.** Trust me, I’m out with my family and shit. I just don’t need the whole school in my business.

**11:02: Ryan.** I can talk to Ramsey and get the scene changed.

A small part of Michael wanted to quickly reply no, don’t. Michael had been annoyed today, but it wasn’t for the reason Ryan had thought. Well, partly. The second part was what he refused to tell Ryan, and it was that he was worried his big stupid crush would become painfully obvious in the moment that they had to kiss.

**11:05: Michael.** No, it’s okay. Writers worked hard on it, and if they wanted it like that, then I guess we’ll go with it.

**11:10: Ryan.** Alright. See you tomorrow.

**11:12: Michael.** Goodnight.

* * *

**Two Months Later**

Opening day was fast approaching, and to say Michael was nervous would be a gross understatement. Not many people knew he was even in the club, and most of the people coming to the shows were people he would never see in his typical school day.

Still, he was nervous. He had never had stage fright, was perfectly fine with talking in front of crowds. But somehow this was different. Like if he didn’t perform well, it would change his life significantly. And maybe it would, with how close he and Ryan had gotten.

Michael voiced his concerns that night, when at Bent Tree with Ryan once again. They were going over logistics, where to look when sayings this line and where to put the inflection on that line.

“So, like, what if I get up there and I’m actually the worst actor in the history of the universe?” Michael mumbled half-jokingly, from behind his macchiato.  _ He was drinking a fucking macchiato, what was Ryan doing to him. _

Ryan laughed out loud before realizing that Michael was serious, and then his smile faded. “You’ll do fine. You’ve been dedicated as fuck, considering your whole...situation. And if you  _ really _ suck, I will personally pull you offstage with one of those canes like from the cartoons.”

That made Michael smile and say with a laugh, “Thanks, I’d really appreciate that.” Michael grew serious. “But for real, I never could have learned all of this without you, so, thanks.”

Michael’s gaze shifted from the table to Ryan’s face, and he felt his stomach flip as he looked into Ryan’s eyes. They seemed a thousand times bluer today, and Michael couldn’t help himself when he reached across the table to lay his hand gently on Ryan’s own.

He felt the man tense up underneath his touch and took his hand back quickly, an awkward cough escaping him. They were quiet after that, but Michael could have sworn he saw Ryan give an amused smirk before looking back to the script.

* * *

**Opening Night**

“Fuck this, I can’t go out there--I’m gonna forget everything and look like a fucking fool and I can’t--” Michael paced back and forth in the small alley separating the two school buildings.

Ryan stood with one foot in the door propping it open, where he had followed Michael seconds before. “Michael…”

“No, Ry, I can’t do this. I can’t remember my lines and my acting is shit and I’m gonna--”

Suddenly Michael forcibly came to a halt and Ryan’s hands were on his cheeks, so that Michael was forced to look only at him. “Michael. Breathe.” He let the man take a slow, ragged breath before continuing. “You. Are. Fine. You know your lines. Remain calm and everything will be fine.”

“But what if--”

Ryan sighed and brought his lips to Michael’s. They stayed like that for a few seconds, mouths mashed against one another, until Ryan pulled back slightly. He started to say something, but then Michael’s lips were following his and he was pulled back down to meet the man in a longer kiss. Michael’s hands came to rest on Ryan, one on his hip and the other flat against his costumed chest. Ryan’s hands on Michael’s face softened, and he brought one down to cup the man’s jaw.

Ryan pulled back first, this time holding Michael in place so he could speak. “Better?”

“Fuck dude, if I knew that was how you calm a guy down I would have freaked out like two months ago.” Michael laughed almost incredulously, heart racing and creeks warm.

“Yeah, well you’re a special case, I’m afraid,” Ryan chuckled, hands still gentle on Michael’s jaw.

Michael just smiled again and pulled Ryan into a tight hug. “Thanks, Ry.”

Ryan’s arms encircled Michael and he smiled into the red curls. “Ready to go back in there?”

* * *

The roar of the applause was all Michael could focus on as he ran back on stage and joined hands with Ryan and Barbara. They bowed once, twice, three times before moving to stand in line with the rest of the cast and crew and give one last big bow as the curtain closed. There were cheers all around, high fives and “good job”’s as the students disbanded to deal with the post-show affairs.

Ryan caught Michael’s hand and rubbed his thumb supportively over the freckles there. “You were amazing.”

Michael’s cheeks reddened, and he pushed at Ryan playfully. “Shut up.” He threw his arms around the taller man and pulled him down into a kiss.


	8. Comes and Goes in Waves (Ryan/Ray)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ray walks in on one of Ryan's breakdowns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you tell I'm a heathen for Raywood angst?
> 
> I wrote this really quickly tonight, and I was so excited about it that I wanted to post it tonight, so excuse any typos and feel free to let me know about them! Also, I would love to write any requests that ya'll have! As always, thank you for reading. <3

The sound of the toolbox crashing to the ground of the garage made Ryan’s blood sing. The metallic clang of the shovel hitting the far wall spiked his adrenaline. And Ryan could have laughed aloud in joy at the satisfying thud of his bike falling to the hard cement had he not felt like his head was exploding.

He stood in the middle of the now-trashed garage, chest heaving with exertion. The panic was still rising, and he needed to stop it. He was lunging for the shelves next to his car when the door crashed open.

Ray stood in the doorway and flinched when boxes of tools went flying across the room, narrowly missing him.

“Ryan! What the fuck?” He yelled at the man, whose back was turned to him.

Ryan locked up. No one was home, no one was supposed to be  _ home right now _ .

“Hey, Ryan? Anybody in there?” Ray asked, clearly confused.

“Get out.”

“Ryan, what’s wrong?”

Ryan spun around, hand at his belt threateningly. “Leave.”

Ray’s eyes had narrowed imperceptibly, but his posture did not change. “Why are you wrecking your garage, Ryan?”

“It’s none of your business,” Ryan snarled. Ray just needed to leave and let Ryan have his mental breakdown in peace, god damn it.

“It is my business when we all keep our shit in each other’s garages. Half this stuff is probably mine!” Ray truly didn’t care about the supplies, but he wanted Ryan to talk; it was clear something was bothering him.

Ryan’s resolve was shaking; he spent so much time masking his emotion, so that when the panic came he could deal with it alone and relatively painlessly. Today’s episode was particularly bad, and he could feel himself grow tired of holding on. He knew his breaking point was fast approaching.

Ryan just grunted a half assed apology and started picking up the tools, still not turning toward Ray.

_ A more direct approach then. _ Ray sighed and stepped into the room. “What’s going on, Rye? If something’s bothering you, if it’s something we did, you can tell me.”

Ryan’s chest ached, physical pain shooting through him at the notion that his boyfriends could have done something that was, in reality, caused by years and years of personalized self-inflicted mental degrading. He swallowed the lump in his throat before rasping out a curt, “No.”

“Then what’s wrong? You know you can talk to us about anything.”

Ryan’s voice was ragged when he finally spoke. “I can’t! I-I can’t talk to anyone, I can’t--It’s too much. I don’t know how to explain anything, I don’t want y-you to-- I fucked up. I fucked up, I fucked--” Ryan was hysterical now. “They w-were so inexperienced, but I pushed them--I thought they could take it, but I was weak and-- And I couldn’t save them, I-I couldn’t save--”

Ryan continued to mumble incoherently, tears running freely down his cheeks now. Suddenly Ray’s arms were around him, and he was moving, being lowered to sit where wall met floor.

“Hey, shh, Ryan, it’s okay,” Ray’s voice drifted to him as if through a tunnel.

Ryan laughed, surely a hysterical sound. Because he was the exact opposite of fine. He was  _ weak _ , he was  _ useless _ . He couldn’t save his crew back then, and he knew there would come a time when he wouldn’t be able to save his boyfriends, and it was just inevitable.

Ray’s voice, stronger with more inflection this time, brought him back to the present. “What the fuck? That’s bullshit, and you know it.” It was at this point that Ryan realized he had been speaking out loud through most of his inner monologue. “What happened with your old crew wasn’t your fault. It will  _ never be _ your fault, okay?”

Ryan made to protest, but Ray continued without a second’s pause. “As for you not protecting us, also bullshit. Newsflash, we’re fucking criminals; we got shot at to put bread on the table. You’re never gonna be able to protect all of us all of the time. So don’t fucking think you’re worthless just because we can get hurt, okay Ryan?”

He had curled in on himself, legs up to the chest and head on his knees. Ray sat a foot away, one hand on his shoe. He was still getting used to how Ryan reacted in moments like these and thought it best to give him space.

Ryan’s breathing evened out eventually, and he lifted his head to see Ray watching him with concern. He was suddenly bone-tired, the panic having sapped every bit of energy from his body. He grabbed Ray’s hand and brought it to his lips. He left a long, chaste kiss on his palm before muttering an apology.

Ray brought his other hand to Ryan’s face. “You have nothing to be sorry for. Nothing.” Ryan’s lip turned up at the corner, and Ray’s face lit up. “Just next time, wreck a pillow factory and not your expensive as fuck garage, ya big dummy.”

Ryan smiled fully at that, and Ray pulled them both up and led them into the living room. Cleaning up could wait until later. Ryan fell into the first couch with an exhausted sigh, pulling Ray down with him. 

Ryan brought the other man to him in a tight hug. It was awkward, with both of them sitting, but Ray stayed as he felt Ryan’s hand slip from his and quiet snores fall around him. The peaceful look on Ryan’s face made Ray smile, and he snuggled deeper to Ryan’s chest.


	9. A Collection of Kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short depictions of Geoff kissing the lads and Ryan because fluff is my favorite.
> 
> Basically G rated again, except for some allusions to sex, but nothing explicit.

With Jeremy, it’s always started with a joke. “Shut the fuck up, Lil J!” “Why don’t you come over here and make me?” Geoff would get this look; they all knew he could never refuse an argument like that. Their kisses were propped up on impromptu heist room tables and spread out on leather couches and nestled in the back booth in their favorite bar. They were light, and their full smiles and hearty laughs usually broke them apart after a minute or two. After all, life was a garden and Geoff was sure as hell digging it.

 

With Gavin, it’s always the slowest. The sweetest, if Geoff was being honest. It was 4 am, I-can’t-sleep-so-I’m-cuddling-with-you kissing. It was soft lips on warm cheeks and lazy bites along jawlines. The kind of kiss that they knew wouldn’t go further--unless they were in a mood. But it was the kind that they were content keeping at light touches and slow breaths. But if anyone but Gavin knew how much Geoff enjoyed them, he’d have their head.

 

With Michael, it’s always passion. Their kisses were anger, annoyance, worry, stress, all wrapped into one and coiling through them like a flame to a line of gasoline. Theirs were broken bed frames and dents in walls, finger-shaped bruises and bite marks too high on the neck. Neither could ever really tell how it started; the stress of the job or something else. But neither could question it, because even after it was over, there was the steady presence of a body at Geoff’s front and the feeling for Michael of waking up next to someone for which you cared so deeply.

 

With Ray, it’s always meaningful. Their kisses were few and far between, but the times that the crew had a break in the action were spent with slow wandering hands and lazy tongues. They would spend hours, doing precious little but exchanging quiet sighs and soft touches on bare bodies. Geoff cherished those times, knowing that their lives didn’t lend much to moments like these, and he almost dreaded when he would have to leave the man’s side to return to the real world.

 

With Lindsay, it’s always second nature. If there was anyone who knew the crew as well as he did, it was Lindsay. Their kisses were pecks on the lips before she left to make a deal and a sweet chaste kiss to the cheek when they all arrived back at the penthouse each night. And Geoff was more than okay with it. With Lindsay, it never went further, and it didn’t need to. They were content to kiss in routine, just as one would wake up and make coffee in the morning or hang their jacket on the same hook after a long day at work.

 

With Ryan, it’s always in the heat of the moment. They’d be racing down the highway in rush hour, one thousand dollars in the backseat and two dozen cops on their tail. Still, he’d lean over with one hand on the wheel and grasp the front of Ryan’s shirt, pull him in for a blazing kiss. Ryan would always respond with the same amount of passion, because if they were being honest, they were both wildly unconcerned for their own lives. And who could really, if they lived the way the Fake AH Crew lived?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos make me smile. Thank you for reading!


	10. Waffle House (Gavin/Ryan)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin gets drunk and wants waffles. Of course he calls Ryan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one got away from me. Somewhat fluffy, tidbit of angst. Basically G, with some swearing.

Gavin was drunk. That was the first thing Ryan noticed when he answered the phone. Gavin’s British tone, slurred by a gratuitous amount of alcohol, saying, “Heeey, Ryyy…”

Ryan flipped over to look at the clock. 3:54 AM. Great.

“Hey Gav. What are you doing, buddy?”

There was a long pause, and then Gavin said again, “Hey.”

“Yes Gavin, hello. What do you need?”

Another pause, as if Gavin was trying really hard to remember how to use words. Then finally, “Waffles.”

“Waffles?”

“Waffles. Waffle House.”

Ryan sighed. “Gavin, you’re drunk, and probably not gonna remember this in the morning. Go to sleep.”

Gavin made a dejected sound on the other end of the phone. “But… waffles, Ry.”

Ryan sighed again; he’d been doing a lot of that since joining the crew. He was dead tired. He and Jeremy had gotten home from a job mere hours ago, and by the time he’d gotten everything cleaned up, he was in bed a solid 45 minutes before Gavin’s call. But now Gavin was whining on the other end of the phone, akin to a small child whom you’ve already told no multiple times.

“I’ll be there in 10.” Ryan clicked the phone off, but not before he heard Gavin’s squeal of delight.

 

Years of practice had Gavin acting semi-normal in public, despite his intoxication. They had successfully made it to Waffle House, Gavin squeaking in happiness and giggling periodically as they waited for their food.

Ryan just had to laugh. Gavin was probably his favorite of the crew, if he was being honest. He was an idiot and pretty much a douche, but there was something about him that made you like him. And he couldn’t deny that there was an attraction there.

Ryan muttered out a quiet “Thanks,” to the server as their food arrived. Gavin dug in immediately, having got the works. Ryan knew for a fact the man couldn’t eat all of it, therefore had only gotten a waffle so that he could steal the rest of Gav’s when he inevitably couldn’t finish it. It was strange how easily he had picked up on little things, like how Gavin could never finish meals at restaurants.

They ate in relative silence, until Gavin leaned back and sighed. “So full…”

Ryan laughed incredulously. “You didn’t even eat your waffle!”

Gavin’s eyes went wide and shiny. “I...forgot. But I’m too full now… Oh no, Ry..” Gavin looked on the verge of tears, and though Ryan knew it was the alcohol, he couldn’t help the spike of worry that stabbed into him.

“Hey, it’s okay.” He set his hand on Gavin’s on the table in somewhat facetious concern. “We’ll take it home, you can eat it tomorrow.” Ryan chuckled lightly as Gavin’s face grew less worried.

Gavin’s fingers played over Ryan’s for a second before seeming to realize what he was doing and said, “Oh, yeah. Okay…”

They got the check and a box for Gavin’s precious waffle. The food seemed to have sobered Gavin up a bit and even as Ryan drove him home, he could see the Brit nodding off in the passenger seat. He pulled up to Gavin’s apartment and nudged him. “Hey, we’re here.”

Gavin grumbled and tucked himself further into the seat. “Don’t wanna move…”

Ryan sighed--he couldn’t seem to stop sighing. “Gavin, you have to go to your apartment.”

Only a small sad sound was his reply.

“Alright, come on. I guess this is what we’re doing.” Ryan turned off the car and got out. He opened the passenger side door and Gavin’s eyes opened for a second before he squawked as Ryan lifted him up with all the ease of a small child. It was an awkward position, with Ryan holding on to his shoulder and hip. Gavin squirmed for a minute before wrapping his legs around Ryan’s waist and his arms around his neck, similar to the way a baby monkey clung to its mother torso. Ryan kicked his door shut and walked up to Gavin’s apartment building, one arm around Gavin’s skinny body, one arm balancing the waffle box and Gavin’s keys. Thank God for elevators, because Gavin’s apartment was on the 21st floor, and that would have been a hell of a climb. 

Finally they reached his apartment. Getting the key in the lock was a whole fucking thing, especially with Gavin’s head nuzzled into his neck. They entered the apartment less than gracefully, the door kicked closed and locked by Ryan. Ryan had never been in here before, other than the quick glances he’d seen when the crew picked him up for heists. It was dark now, but Ryan could see the big TV and consoles, a system of organized chaos to the whole room.

Gavin was no help in finding his bedroom--“Itsch… that way”--pointing toward the window overlooking the city. Ryan waddled down the hall, leaving the waffle and keys on the kitchen counter. There were only a few doors, and he found the bedroom easily. He pulled Gavin’s shoes off while the man was still firmly attached to him, then leant down to detach him.

Gavin’s arms tightened around his neck. “No…”

Ryan was fucking tired. “Gavin, come on. Go to bed.”

Gavin’s arms loosened slightly, but his chin was still tucked into Ryan’s chest. Ryan put one hand on the man’s hip and pushed him lightly. His legs detached from Ryan’s waist and flopped onto the bed.

Gavin murmured something so low that Ryan did not quite catch it. “What?”

“Stay.” Gavin’s voice came as a whisper.

Now, Ryan didn’t like to think that he was swayed by emotions easily, but goddamn if his heart didn’t physically ache at hearing the man’s voice sound so small and vulnerable. He was a fucking goner.

“Okay, Gav. I’ll stay.” He shuffled them so Gavin was on one side of the bed. He tried to detach his arms again only to get a disgruntled whine, to which he fondly laughed. “I’m just gonna take off my shoes.”

Gavin looked up at him distrustfully--that drunk skepticism--but let him go. Ryan shrugged his jacket and shoes off, as well as his jeans for good measure. He laid back down, on top of the covers, and Gavin was back curled into his side in an instant. One leg came up to tangle with his, an arm over his chest. Ryan curled his own arm around the Brit’s back, hand resting on his side.

Gavin responded to the touch by pressing himself even further into Ryan, practically laying on the left side of Ryan’s body. Ryan’s cheek rested on the top of Gavin’s head. Gavin’s fingers made small circles beside the collar of Ryan’s t-shirt, feather light touches on the skin that almost tickled. Soon Gavin was nuzzling at his neck, lips moving slowly against the hollow of his throat.

Ryan shifted. “Go to sleep, Gav.”

Gavin made a noncommittal noise and continued to mouth at Ryan’s skin.

Ryan removed his arm from around Gavin’s body. He moved so he could look into Gavin’s eyes. There was no denying what he saw there, what he knew was mimicked in his own. But Gavin was drunk, or at least pretty buzzed still, and “I don’t want...”

“Oh. Okay. I get it.” Gavin dropped his gaze quickly and curled his arms close to his own body. He removed his legs from Ryan’s too, and now their only point of contact was Gavin’s hair barely touching Ryan’s arm. 

That wasn’t what Ryan had meant. Well, it was, but now that Gavin had withdrawn he found he missed the contact. He wanted Gavin, God he wanted him, but not like this. Not while he was drunk and vulnerable. But he knew that anything he said now would just sound like he was trying to go back on his word, so he gave into the pull of sleep. He could fix it in the morning.

 

Ryan woke to bright sunlight shining through the blinds. He momentarily forgot where he was until the previous night came back to him: Waffle house, carrying Gavin upstairs, the hollow feeling when Gavin moved away from him.

Speaking of Gavin, Ryan turned his head to find the man still fast asleep beside him. He looked peaceful, albeit disheveled from sleeping in his clothes. But Ryan had slept fitfully, and he could tell it was still early morning, before noon at least.

Ryan slid off the bed and dressed again, thinking that if he just slipped out Gavin would only remember that Ryan brought him home and omit anything else from his memory. Ryan just felt like crap. He had been trying not to give Gavin the wrong idea, but instead gave him a  _ different _ wrong idea.

But all hope of his sneaky escape was dashed when Gavin rolled over and cleared his throat sleepily, stretching his arms high above his head and opening his eyes. He looked confused for a moment before he seemed to remember the night before and--to Ryan’s dismay--their interaction, eyes darting from Ryan’s quickly.

“Morning,” Ryan said quietly, trying to break the tension.

Gavin opened his mouth but before any words could come out, he scrambled out of bed to the adjoining bathroom and the retching began. Ryan followed the man quickly. The smell hit him, and he decided to open the windows in the bedroom before knocking lightly on the doorframe. The door wasn’t shut, but Ryan wanted to announce his presence as best he could. Gavin groaned from his position on the floor, head coming down to rest on the toilet seat.

“My morning breath really that bad?” Ryan joked.

Gavin smiled weakly, before grimacing. “No, I--” but was cut off as he now had his whole head practically in the bowl.

“Okay. Water. I’m getting you water.” Ryan fetched a glass from the kitchen. Gavin was leaning against the wall beside the toilet now, hands clammy and forehead wet with a sheen of sweat. Ryan sat down opposite him, back against the glass shower door. He handed him the water, which Gavin took gratefully. He began to chug it before Ryan cautioned, “Not too fast. It’ll make you throw up again.”

Gavin grimaced again and set the glass down. Sure enough, a couple minutes later he was leaning over the bowl again. Ryan physically hurt watching the man get sick. He crouched next to the man and began rubbing circles into his back lightly. When it seemed all possible substance had been expelled from his stomach, Ryan curled his arm around the man’s waist, intending to set him down in his previous spot against the wall. But Gavin’s body was practically limp, and he leaned on Ryan heavily. Ryan ultimately decided it would be too much work to try to finagle him back into a sitting position, and he just sat back, allowing the Brit to half lean/half lay in his lap. 

They stayed like that for a while, so long that he could hear Gavin’s breathing slow and Ryan pulled down a magazine from behind the toilet to flip through. A couple hours later, by Ryan’s count, Gavin stirred again. He made a pathetic sound, somewhere between a whine and a groan. Ryan’s hand touched his hair lightly, fingers carding through the tangled rat’s nest. Gavin jerked his head up, the sudden movement making him wince.

“Oh. Didn’t know you were still here.” Gavin croaked.

“Well, you’re laying on me, so I don’t think I could move if I tried,” Ryan said jokingly.

Gavin scowled at that. “Well sorry.” He started to get up, to go where--Ryan wasn’t sure. Ryan got up with him.

“Woah, take it easy buddy.”

Gavin shrugged him off and put toothpaste on his toothbrush. Around a mouthful he said, “‘M fine.”

“Let me at least help you.”

“I said I’m bloody fine, Ryan.”

Ryan could tell he was embarrassed. “Is this about last night? Because I didn’t really make myself clear…”

Gavin spit into the sink and washed his mouth out again. “Oh no, you made yourself clear. It was stupid of me to think that just because you’re nice to me, you’d want to sleep with me.”

_ Oh but its so much more than that. _ “Its not that. It’s just that--”

Gavin sighed. “Save it, alright? There’s a hundred reasons why a guy like you wouldn’t want to be with me and I don’t really need to hear them after I just--”

Ryan seized Gavin’s shoulders and pulled him forward to lock their lips in a hard kiss. Gavin let out a surprised noise, but was frozen against Ryan. Ryan felt his fingertips pressing hard into Gavin’s shoulders and was in the process of telling his fingers to release when Gavin responded, threading his fingers through Ryan’s hair and pushing him back a few steps to the wall.

Ryan responded as well, allowing his fingers to relax and sliding from his shoulders to his chest and down to his hips. Gavin was the first to pull away, though he did not move from his spot plastered again Ryan’s chest.

“I was trying to tell you that I don’t want to take advantage of you because you were drunk, dumbass. I am absolutely being nice to you because I want to sleep with you. But I’m also being nice to you because you’re ridiculous and attractive and you call me at 4 AM because you can’t drive yourself and you want Waffle House.”

Gavin’s eyes were wide with shock. “Wait, you like me?”

Ryan burst out laughing. “I confess that I basically want to be your fucking boyfriend and all you have to say is ‘you like me?’ Yes, I like you.”

Now it was Gavin’s turn to bring Ryan’s mouth to his and catch him in a heated kiss.


End file.
